


Keeper

by FantasySwap



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Bad Things Done Out Of ‘Love’, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Non Consensual Bondage, Non Consensual touching, Obsession, Possessive Behaviour, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Coercion, Stalking, but also kind of light hearted, dark Diego, of a minor, physical assault, seriously it’s dark, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: “Klaus is… kind of chaotic? Don't worry, he’s not, like, psychotic or anything. He just doesn’t know how to look after himself. I’d appreciate it if he had someone to look out for him.” Ben admits.Diego hops up onto the counter and kicks his legs against the wood. “Well, sure.” He shrugs. “I’d be happy to keep an eye on him.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Take Care](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239825) by [shadowhive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowhive/pseuds/shadowhive). 



> Based on shadowhive’s incredible fic ‘Take Care’, so massive thanks to them for letting me write this! If you haven't already read that definitely go check it out!

Diego has known Ben for a long time. They’ve been friends ever since they first met at work; Diego had been gearing up for the big fight that evening and Ben had been mopping the floor with a dejected expression. They had struck up a conversation and that had been it: they were just friends. That’s how Diego knows immediately, instinctively, that something is wrong when Ben walks into work that night.

 

Outwardly he looks fine - at least he’s not got a black eye and a broken nose which is Diego’s usual state of ‘not okay’ - but he’s jumpy and anxious looking, drumming his fingers on the tabletop when they take their five minute break. Diego resists the urge to slap his knuckles and lets out a long suffering sigh.

 

“What’s wrong?” Diego asks, resting his chin in his hand, bored, and ignoring the group of teenage girls whispering and giggling in the corner. It’s not exactly a rare occurrence, and Diego has learned how to tune it out.

 

“What?” Ben’s head shoots up, blinking owlishly. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. What’s wrong with you?” Diego raises an eyebrow and Ben breaks, like he always does around one of Diego’s disparaging looks. “Okay. So maybe I’m a bit worried.”

 

“What’s up?” Their boss pops his head out of the office door to glare at them and Diego doesn’t even bother with looking busy. He’s Reginald’s best fighter: the guy isn’t going to fire him just because he doesn’t smile at their customers.

 

“I have to go back to Korea.” Ben says in a rush, fumbling with a cloth and wiping it on the table top absentmindedly, the same spot he’s been cleaning for the past five minutes. “My foster father had a stroke - he’s gonna be fine, don’t worry - but I want to be there for him. You know?”

 

Diego nods and frowns. “Then what’s the problem? Are you worried about getting time off work? Because I can talk to Reginald, he can—”

 

“No, no.” Ben hurries to explain, hands waving about airily. “Thank you, but I already talked to Reginald and he said it was okay. It’s just… I wanted to ask you for a favour? And I know it’s a lot to ask and I completely understand if you say no, but I just didn’t know who else to ask.”

 

Ben looks so miserable that Diego can’t help but laugh; he punches Ben’s shoulder - lightly, because Diego works out a _lot_ and Ben is built a little like a beanstalk - and says, “C’mon, dude, what are friends for? Whatever it is, I’m down for it, okay?”

 

Ben smiles and shakes his head a little ruefully, but he sounds immeasurably relieved when he speaks again.

 

“Careful, Diego.” He earns, only half jokingly. “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.” And then without pausing for a breath he blurts out, “It’s my brother.”

 

Diego blinks. “You have a brother?” He asks dumbly. He’s known Ben for three years now, since Ben was nineteen and Diego was twenty three, and he never realised his best friend had a brother.

 

“Half brother.” Ben explains. “But yeah. Klaus. He’s gonna be turning seventeen in, like, a week and I can’t really hire him a babysitter. I wish I could be there for his birthday but I leave tomorrow and I just wanted to ask… would you be able to keep an eye on him?”

 

“Can’t he stay on his own?” Diego questions, and then realises how that sounds. “Not that I’m saying no! Of course, that’s not a problem. I’m just confused. If he’s seventeen…”

 

Ben shuffles uncomfortably. Diego snatches the cloth from him and hurls it towards the office carelessly, just to get Ben to stop fiddling with it.

 

“Klaus is… kind of chaotic? Don’t worry, he’s not, like, psychotic or anything. He just doesn’t know how to look after himself. I’d appreciate it if he had someone to look out for him.” Ben admits.

 

Diego hops up onto the counter and kicks his legs against the wood. “Well, sure.” He shrugs. “I’d be happy to keep an eye on him. I can’t promise I know how to be a parent or whatever.”

 

Ben snorts. “Do I look like a mom to you? Don’t worry about it, he knows how to make his own mac and cheese.”

 

Diego is about to reply - probably to ask when he gets to meet Ben’s illusive baby brother who has managed to stay under Diego’s radar for so long - when Reginald pops up behind Diego’s shoulder like some teleporting super spy and folds his arms.

 

“Diego, dear.” He grumbles, monocle rising and falling with every disappointed twitch of his nose. “You are my most valued fighter as I’m sure you’re aware, but please don’t think I won’t put you on toilet cleaning duty if you don’t start interacting with some customers.”

 

Whatever. Diego will just have to meet him later.

 

***

 

Ben leaves early the next day, and he gives Diego a key to his apartment.

 

Maybe he should have waited for Ben to land in Korea, and maybe he should have called Klaus’ cell number that Ben had given him in case of emergencies - and also apparently in case Klaus forget it - but that would have required waiting and Klaus has been burning up with curiosity about Ben’s little brother ever since he found out about his existence.

 

So he can’t quite justify what he’s doing there then at just turned eight in the evening, letting himself into their apartment and closing the door quietly behind him, but he can come up with a few good excuses.

 

The shower is clearly running in the other room, the sound of running water loud in the otherwise silent apartment, so Diego lets himself look around a bit first. The kitchen and the living room are both fairly boring, only the basic appliances in the kitchen and a few typical homely pieces of furniture in the lounge. Ben has never seemed like a particularly sentimental person so it’s no surprise that there are no pictures along the walls or propped up on tables anywhere, but all the same Diego follows the corridor down to the closed set of doors at the end of the hall.

 

They’re bedrooms, clearly, and after walking in on what is obviously Ben’s room he walks in on what is _obviously_ Klaus’ room: the floor is covered with clothes and empty food packets, half full mugs of coffee lay cold and abandoned on his bedside table and the curtains are drawn tight shut. It’s a typical teenager’s bedroom and, even though Diego has never met Klaus in his life, he finds it strangely endearing.

 

He takes a moment to sit down on Klaus’ unmade bed, rocking up and down to test the mattress. It’s soft but not too bouncy, like the springs in it aren’t quite worn out just yet. It must be relatively new then, and Diego feels a little relieved; he loves Ben like a brother but he’s been in his situation before Reginald promoted him to a fighter, so he knows for a fact that mopping the club’s floor wouldn’t earn him enough to keep this place furnished. They must be getting money from somewhere else. Diego wonders if Klaus has a job.

 

He moves onto the wardrobe next. Klaus doesn’t have an excessive amount of clothes but the things he does have all intrigue Diego even more. They aren’t typical teenage boy attire: hoodies and tracksuits and baggy jeans. Instead Klaus’ wardrobe is full off short, pleated skirts and lace up leather trousers, crop tops and jeans so skinny that they look like they could cut blood circulation off instantly. Diego smiles a little, ridiculously pleased that Klaus is turning out to be more interesting than he first thought.

 

Questionable or not, Diego peeks through his drawers after that. He hurries for this one, because he doesn’t particularly want Klaus to get out of the shower and see a stranger rifling through his underwear draw, but he’s pleased to see a collection of panties and boxers, as well as a few training bras that would suit flat chested people.

 

There’s an array of make up on the vanity table in the corner, lipsticks and eyeliners and mascaras all lined up neatly in a row next to the perfume Klaus has on display. Diego finds himself growing increasingly intrigued with Klaus, Ben’s mystery baby brother who apparently likes to wear dresses and panties and makeup. There are a few random sketches on spare pieces of paper on this table as well, torn off drawings of Ben or inanimate objects that are actually kind of incredible once Diego gets a closer look, but he doesn’t spend too much time admiring these. There are only a few, and he notices something much more interesting to his left anyway.

 

On the windowsill in front of the large, square shaped window on the wall opposite the door there’s a box. It’s a fancy thing - probably the most ornate thing Diego has seen in this entire apartment - made out of wood and smoothed to a neat finish. There are patterns carved into the lid in careful designs, interweaving beautifully with the edges of the box that lead down to… the keyhole.

 

It’s locked. Diego grunts in quiet frustration, gritting his teeth when fiddling with the lock doesn’t do anything to help. There must be a key around here quickly and Diego looks down at the junk cluttered on the windowsill to see if he can spot it, desperate to find out what the kid’s keeping inside the box. He’s so absorbed in his task that he doesn’t even notice when the water switches off in the bathroom, and then he doesn’t hear the sound of feet padding down the hall towards the bedroom that Diego is still very much visible in.

 

The door creaks open and then there’s a surprised yelp - not from Diego, thankfully - as Diego drops the box back to the sill and spins around. There’s a boy standing in the doorway, Klaus he presumes, that takes Diego’s breath away. He’s lanky: not as tall as Diego but with skinny arms and a chest that Diego could probably envelop between both hands. There’s a towel slung low around his waist but not low enough for Diego to miss the sharp jut of his hipbones, eyes travelling upwards to see the hint of a soft belly not quite removed by adulthood just yet. Klaus has a sharp jawline and a baby face, juxtaposition working at its finest, and a mop of curly brown hair that sticks to his cheeks and neck with water. Rivulets run down his chest, past cute, pink nipples, towards the trail of soft looking hair disappearing underneath the towel.

 

His eyes - pretty, green, framed by lashes long and dark - widen when he sees Diego in his room and he stumbles a bit, only just managing to keep the towel secure around his waist. His fist clenches in the fabric and he sucks in a breath, chest expanding with the force of it.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” He says, voice breathy and alarmed but not quite scared, like he’s expecting a perfectly rational answer. It makes Diego smile. It also makes him want to lay Klaus down flat and tease him until he’s crying and he can’t take it anymore, see if he still sounds like he expects a rational answer then.

 

“Woah, easy. It’s Klaus, right?” Diego laughs amiably, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m Diego, Ben’s friend. He gave me a key— he told you I was coming to check up on you, right?”

 

Klaus still looks conflicted, but his choice of words must have triggered something in Klaus because he looks up sharply and huffs out an irritated sigh; he looks like he wants to cross his arms over his chest and only the importance of the towel is stopping him. At least he’s still stopped glaring at Diego, and is instead now just watching him warily.

 

“I’m not a kid,” Klaus says, sounding very much like a whiny kid. “I don’t need checking up on.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Diego agrees, stretching the truth a little bit here for his own benefit. “You’re almost seventeen, right? You’re not a little boy anymore, you don’t need someone to take care of you.”

 

Klaus eyelashes flutter slightly, eyes closing for a few brief seconds, but when he blinks back into focus again he looks confused. Diego is probably more clued into this situation than he is himself: Klaus may be seventeen but he exudes an aura about himself that he’s clearly not even aware of. He’s delicate and fragile and, like Ben had said, kind of a mess. He looks very much like a little boy all of a sudden, like he needs someone to take care of him because he can’t take care of himself.

 

Even so, it’s not going to earn him any popularity points if he says that to the kid.

 

“But Ben’s my best friend, so I didn’t want him to worry.” Klaus nods slowly, like he can understand this excuse and accept it. Diego takes one last subtle look over Klaus’ chest, smooth and pale and unmarked, before jumping back into action. “Well, why don’t I let you get changed and then I can meet you out here? Have you eaten yet? I can make dinner whilst you get changed, and then we can get to know each other.”

 

Klaus blinks, spinning round on his heel when Diego heads towards the door. “What?” He frowns, confused. “Just… what? I don’t understand, what are you even doing here right now? Ben only just left.”

 

Diego smiles, albeit a little condescendingly in the way he would smile at a young child asking an obvious question, and thumbs Klaus’ cheek. He’s obviously not expecting it but he doesn’t move away from it which is a pleasant surprise.

 

“I’m taking care of you, clearly. Like Ben wanted. Making sure you don’t set the kitchen on fire, I guess.” He answers, unsure whether this answer will be satisfactory with Klaus or not. Klaus seems to hesitate, looking between Diego and the corridor towards the kitchen as though he’s trying to decide whether he should make a run for it or not. Eventually he nods slowly and gets a hand on the doorknob, pushing the door shut after Diego slowly.

 

“I’ll get changed.” He nods, repeating what Diego had just suggested like he’s trying to make it his own idea.

 

“Okay,” Diego lets him think it is, just this once. He can’t believe Ben kept this beauty hidden away from him for so long, when all this time he could have been admiring Klaus. It’s okay now, he figures, because Ben asked him to keep an eye on Klaus. He asked Diego to take care of the kid.

 

Diego plans to.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben really wasn’t kidding when he said Klaus couldn’t look after himself: it’s been less than twenty four hours and their kitchen is already almost empty. Diego can find a can of tinned tomatoes, half a loaf of bread and an unopened jar of peanut butter. He has no idea how Klaus was planning on surviving on this for however long Ben will be away— because, as far as Diego knows, Ben deliberately didn’t leave him any money. Diego isn’t sure why, but he’s sort of endeared by the fact that he’s going to have to provide for Klaus now.

 

He’s rifling through the cupboards for plates when Klaus slips into the room, silent and cautious, watching as Diego struggles to find the right crockery. He’s changed into a tamer outfit than Diego has expected from the contents of his wardrobe: a loose pair of sweatpants that rest low on his bony hips and a crop top, baggy enough around his chest that Diego can see his collarbones. When he sits down at the table and accepts the plate Diego slides towards him without so much as a ‘thank you’, Diego grins.

 

“Ben told you I was coming, right?” He says, biting into his own sandwich and chewing obnoxiously with his mouth open. It’s not much of a dinner for the kid and if it wasn’t their first time meeting he’d offer to take Klaus out to eat, but right now he just wants to get to know the boy somewhere he clearly feels comfortable.

 

Klaus picks gingerly at the sandwich: he’s honest to god picking the crusts off and flicking them onto the plate, and Diego would make a joke about it if he didn’t think it would get him a dirty look in return.

 

“Yeah,” Klaus shrugs, sounding like a sulky teenager. “But, like, it’s only been a day. I thought you’d be one of those people that popped in for, like, five minutes every two days or something. From the way Ben talked you he made it seem like—” He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes darting up to Diego’s face.

 

“Not my style, baby.” Diego murmurs, the term slipping out almost naturally. Klaus, it would seem, isn’t used to Diego’s particular type of playfulness because a blush creeps into his cheeks and he scowls. Diego ignores him and leans further towards him over the table, interested. “Go on,” he encourages. “How did he make me seem?”

 

Klaus shrugs again, feigning disinterest and taking a sip of water from the glass Diego filled for him. Diego watches the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips afterwards. When he next looks at Diego it’s from under his eyelashes.

 

“Like someone who wouldn’t take well to babysitting.” He says, and it sounds like a challenge. Diego smirks, pleasantly surprised by the kid’s spirit, and draws Klaus’ plate towards him with a finger. Klaus watches warily as Diego eats the crusts from his plate, one by one, making him wait for an answer.

 

“You’re not just any old baby, are you?” He replies finally. Klaus blinks and then looks down quickly, staring holes into the tabletop. His fingers tap out a nervous rhythm onto the wood and Diego desperately wants to reach across, take his hand and suck those fingers into his mouth.

 

“I guess not.” Klaus clenches his jaw and pushes away from the table, nudging his empty plate towards Diego like he’s just assuming the man is here to clean up his mess. If Diego knew Ben was going to be gone for a while longer he’d set about teaching Klaus some manners, but as it is he doesn’t know how much time he’ll have.

 

“Just so you know,” Klaus says, leaning over the back of his chair. “I’m not gonna be around much.”

 

Diego blinks, his breath catching in his throat. Ever since he arrived he’s been thinking up reasons, excuses, to come back: there are only so many times he can come and ‘check up’ on Klaus, and if he doesn’t get the kid eating out of the palm of his hand by then, he isn’t going to have much to go off. Klaus not being around much is going to ruin that. This… is not part of his plan.

 

“Why’s that?” He asks. Klaus must hear the biting undertone to his words because he looks up sharply and, when met with Diego’s confrontational expression, shrinks away a little.

 

“I’m out. I mean, I’ll be out.” He says, jutting his chin out defiantly. “I go out in the evenings.”

 

“And Ben lets you do that?” Diego asks doubtfully. Klaus crosses his arms over his chest and stays right where he is when Diego stands up, advancing on him easily. Klaus is almost a full head shorter than him and with Diego toe to toe with him he has to crane his neck. He looks cute like this, vulnerable, like a kid playing dress up.

 

Like someone pretending to be much, much braver than they actually are because they have no idea how in over their head they truly are.

 

“Ben’s not my mom.” Klaus argues. Diego grins, the corner of his mouth lifting up on one side, and traces a fingertip over the line of Klaus’ jaw. The kid’s eyes flutter and his lips part; his arms fall to his sides and he swallows, surprised at his own reaction. Diego isn’t usually wrong about these things and with Klaus it would appear he’s hit the mark exactly: he really does just need someone to look after him.

 

Diego fucking volunteers.

 

“Funny.” He breathes, moving his hand to run through Klaus’ hair, scratching his nails over his scalp lightly. “That’s just what Ben said. But you know what?”

 

Klaus swallows, seemingly very conscious of how close Diego is, how Diego is slowly backing him up until he’s flat against the wall with arms caging him in. “What?” He asks, very clearly.

 

“Until Ben gets back, it’s up to me to keep you safe. I’ve been told you’re kind of… ditzy. A bit hysterical, you know what I mean?” And, okay, he’s sort of improvising here but he’s got to make this point explicit to Klaus. The boy has to know that he’s calling the shots from now on, otherwise Diego is never going to be able to take care of him properly. Klaus frowns in response to this but he doesn’t try to argue it, so maybe he even agrees. “What if you went out and got hurt? How would that make me look, huh?”

 

He waits a few moments to see if Klaus will offer an answer, but when it becomes clear he isn’t going to Diego pulls away from the wall, leaving Klaus trembling. When the shock has worn off a bit he starts to get pissed, Diego can tell, because his expression clouds over visibly, passivity turning into anger.

 

“How does this work then?” Klaus says, not quite shouting but raising his voice. Diego hasn’t really come up with a plan yet, so he doesn’t know whether riling the boy up is a good thing or not, but he does enjoy the way his face flushes red and how the crop top he’s wearing slips down his shoulder when he gestures wildly. “Do you want to fucking pick me up from school as well? Maybe you could give me a curfew? Make sure I do my homework too?”

 

“Cut your crusts off for you?” Diego points out. It’s a joke, albeit a mean one, and Klaus’ mouth snaps shut. “Really though, those sound like good ideas. I have weird work hours so I may not be around every evening, but picking you up from school shouldn’t be a problem. I never did much homework when I was at school but I guess I should set a good example, right?”

 

If Klaus were any closer he’d reach out, nudge the boy with his shoulder, like he was sharing a joke with a bro. As it is all he can do is watch in faint amusement as Klaus splutters.

 

“I— what— I was _joking_ , asshole!” He cries, going so far as to actually stomp his foot. Diego hides a smirk behind his hand, covers it up with a cough. “Who the hell even are you anyway? I’ve never met you, you could be literally anyone. You don’t get to tell me what to do. You can’t _make_ me.”

 

The smirk fades from Diego’s face at this; it’s not that he’s angry. He’s not angry. He’s not even annoyed, not really. It’s just that when Klaus says things like ‘you can’t make me’ he has the unstoppable urge to show him that yes, actually, he can. Diego has never liked being told no, especially not by prissy little pretty boys, and maybe it’s infuriatingly cliched of him but he has to make Klaus _understand_ that he’s in control.

 

He’s on Klaus in a second - it’s so easy, the boy isn’t expecting it at all - and then they’re back up against the wall. Klaus hits the wall so forcefully that his head knocks back against it, but by the time he’s gotten past the surprise Diego already has a hand around his neck. Klaus’ eyes widen and he lets out a breath of warm air that ghosts over Diego’s face; his hands come up automatically and his fingers scrabble at the iron grip around his throat but Diego is stronger than him.

 

“That’s what I _mean_ , Klaus.” Diego hisses, all up in the kid’s face. His other hand settles heavy over Klaus’ hip, pressing closer and trapping him more firmly between his own body and the wall when the kid tries to wriggle out of it. He seems especially opposed to the way Diego’s fingertips creep up over his bare waist, cool against the warm skin, or down, just under the boy’s waistband, but Diego really can’t help it. Klaus’ body is addictive to him, like a drug he’ll never be able to get enough of, and touching him makes it both better and worse simultaneously. He’s hardly even applying pressure around the kid’s windpipe, anyway.

 

There are so many things Diego wants to say to Klaus right now. He’s trying to _protect_ Klaus, from himself but also from everybody else in this fucked up world. If Klaus goes out, at night no less, what’s to him from getting beaten up in a back alley somewhere? What’s to stop him from getting attacked, raped, _killed_ even? No one would go looking for him, because no one would even realise he was missing. Diego is here to protect the boy from all of that, to keep him inside where Diego can watch him at all times to make sure he’s safe, and Klaus is being ungrateful. He’s throwing it all back in his face. He’s saying _no_.

 

But Diego doesn’t say any of that. Instead he leans forward so that his lips are brushing the shell of Klaus’ ear when he talks, and says, “I _can_ make you.”

 

Then he lets go entirely and steps away, leaving Klaus for the second time shaking and shell shocked. This time though he doesn’t look like he’s going to get angry— he doesn’t look like he’s going to move at all. He just stands, shivering, with tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. He cries silently, and Diego sighs; he never wants to upset Klaus. He just… had to make him see.

 

“I’ll be back tomorrow with groceries.” Diego smiles a little guilty and wipes a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Ben gave my number for emergencies, right?”

 

Klaus nods: a brittle, uncertain movement. He doesn’t put up any argument, but his hand travels up to his neck to press tenderly at the spots where bruises are already forming.

 

“Call me if you need, alright? Sleep well, Klaus.” Diego waits until Klaus has nodded before turning away and heading for the door. He makes sure to tuck his spare set of keys into his jeans, because as things stand at the moment he doubts Klaus would let him back in, even if he knocked and asked nicely.

 

That’ll change though, Diego assures himself. He only had to scare Klaus because the kid acted out, and as soon as Klaus gets used to the change in leadership around here he’d stop misbehaving. He’ll start acting how Diego wants him to act - because he’ll realise it’s for his own damn good - and then he’ll start to see what a good guy Diego actually is. It’ll be simple, seducing him, because Klaus will already trust him.

 

This is how Diego consoles himself as he leaves Klaus’ apartment and locks the door from the outside. If Ben we’re here he’d agree with him. Maybe not about the seducing his little brother aspect of things but if he knew how dedicated Diego is to protecting Klaus he wouldn’t have a problem with it, surely.

 

Whatever. Diego will come back again tomorrow, whenever his work allows, and maybe he’ll try to be nicer. Maybe he’ll make things up to Klaus, bring him something nice, something pretty.

 

Until then, at least he knows Klaus will be safe for tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

By some bizarre stroke of luck Diego has a whole free day the day afterwards. He doesn’t usually work in the day - his fights are in the evening and Reginald doesn’t like him enough to force him to work mid afternoon - but today his opponent is apparently recovering from food poisoning. Diego takes the opportunity to work out a little and look up recipes online until he’s hungry. Then, he goes grocery shopping.

 

He hasn’t strictly asked Klaus what he wants to eat but it’s clear he’s not planning to go shopping of his own volition any time soon: that’s why Diego is there, after all. To take care of him.

 

Besides, Klaus is a teenage boy. Diego knows well enough what teenage boys like to eat.

 

So he piles chips and fries and soda into his cart, even as he’s buying wholegrain bread and pasta and a variety of different fruits. Ben has entrusted him with Klaus’ wellbeing, and what kind of responsible adult would he be if he let the kid eat junk food all week?

 

He heads to Klaus’ apartment at just gone midday with his trunk full of shopping bags, food ready to be put away. He has to fish the keys out of his pocket first but that doesn’t take long, and soon enough he’s kicking the door shut behind himself and hurrying to the kitchen. He’s honestly surprised: he hasn’t been this on top of stocking his own shelves in years. Something about having to take care of Klaus has spurred him into action, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. But then just as Diego is about to start loading things into what he has deemed their appropriate places there’s a slow, cautionary noise from behind him and he turns to see Klaus leaning against the doorframe wearing only a pair of boxers. His eyebrows are drawn together in suspicion and he reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear— it’s the cutest fucking thing Diego has ever seen.

 

“Klaus?” Diego asks, frowning. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at school?”

 

Klaus scowls at this, wrapping his arms around himself protectively like he’s trying to cover himself up. Like he’s noticed the way Diego’s eyes linger on the pale, unmarked skin of his chest, the soft pinkness of his nipples, the faint trail of hair leading beneath the waistband of his boxers tantalisingly.

 

“You locked me in!” Klaus accuses, voice whiny enough to bring a smile to Diego’s face.

 

“You have a key, Klaus.” Diego points out, see-sawing between angry and amused. Klaus swallows nervously like he’s conscious of this delicate balance, of the way things could go if Diego lands on ‘angry.’ “Are you just looking for excuses to skip, huh?”

 

“No!” Klaus exclaims, arms dropping to his sides. The lock of dark hair falls over his face again and Diego wants to push it back, wants to hold Klaus’ face in his hands and pull the boy forward until their mouths meet. He murmurs something inaudible, glaring down at the ground.

 

“Speak up.” Diego says, an instruction.

 

“I lost my keys, okay! I lost my fucking keys, asshole, and you locked me in. What if there had been a fire? I’d be dead and it would be totally your fault.”

 

Diego inhales and lets the breath out on a laugh. “Christ,” He says, dragging his hand over his face. He crosses the distance between them in two easy strides, hands resting briefly on the kid’s shoulders before he slides one forewords over to his chest to rest on his nipple, the other one sliding down to rest over the swell of his ass. He’s so smooth, so soft and warm all over, that touching him quickly becomes addictive.

 

“You really are chaotic,” Diego grins. “C’mon, I’ll take you to school.”

 

He can’t help but flex his fingers just slightly; Klaus is rigid and stiff in front of him, muscles tensed as Diego’s wandering hands flit over his body. The movement jolts Klaus forward just a little so that he’s driven forward hips first, knocking into Diego’s body.

 

“Wait, wait.” Klaus exclaims, not trying to pull away but not relaxing either. “Can’t I just stay here?”

 

Diego frowns. “I can’t just let you skip school, Klaus. What if they call Ben? I’m responsible for you at the moment.”

 

“It’s just one day,” Klaus replies sulkily. He shrugs and even though he’s crowded into Diego’s body so closely that he his forehead is literally pressed into Diego’s chest, he looks down. “It’s not like I’ll miss anything worth while.”

 

Diego still hesitates. On the one hand he wants to give Klaus everything he wants; he likes that the kid has to ask him for permission, and it’s not like he himself was ever that diligent about his high school attendance. But on the other hand… he has to set limits, right? He has to let Klaus know that he can’t just get whatever he wants because he has a pretty face and he said ‘please’.

 

But then Klaus sighs - he feels the jump, the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders as he inhales exhales - and says, “You could stay? We could… I don’t know, watch a movie or something? I just really don’t feel up to school right now.”

 

He doesn’t sound particularly happy about the idea, but maybe that’s what turns Diego on even more. Klaus isn’t trying to fight him, but he’s not just going along with him either. He’s adapting— compromising.

 

Klaus is _learning_.

 

“Yeah,” Diego murmurs, nodding and digging his fingernails ever so slightly into Klaus’ ass until the boy lets out a reluctant whimper and shuffles even closer to him just to alleviate it. “Okay. Why don’t you go find me a beer and I’ll choose a movie?”

 

Klaus nods and finally, finally, Diego lets him go. The shopping can wait a few hours to be out away, and he likes the idea of Klaus bringing him drinks like a good little housewife. He doesn’t know what kind of films Klaus is interested in, and he’s not particularly bothered about watching anything himself, but if it supplies him with an excuse to get Klaus tucked under his arm and into his side for a couple of hours then he doesn’t really care.

 

In the end he’s not even sure what he chooses, some random action movie that is almost certainly Ben’s. Klaus comes in with two beers and an unbuttoned flannel t-shirt on. He sits, much to Diego’s amusement, on the very far side of the couch. He curls his legs under him very catlike and thrusts a beer into Diego’s face, cradling the other one to his chest.

 

“What do you think you’re doing with that, huh?” Diego raises an eyebrow expectantly. Klaus looks between Diego and the drink in his hand.

 

“Drinking it?” Klaus answers bitterly, like he knows exactly what’s about to come. Diego smiles.

 

“I’m sorry, did I miss you turning twenty one?” Klaus grits his teeth. “Give it to me.”

 

“Just fuck off, man, give me a break— _hey_!” It’s easy for Diego to lean over sharply, grab his skinny ankle from where it’s poised under him and tug him across the couch by his leg so that he can only struggle against Diego. His shirt falls open across his chest and Diego is privy to another glimpse of the kid’s chest; he wants so badly to slide his hand over it again, feel where tits would be soft and small.

 

“What the fuck?” Klaus cries, pulling himself out of Diego’s grip as soon as he’s wrestled the bottle away from Diego, breaking the illusion. “You _hurt_ me, asshole.”

 

“Do what I say next time, then.” Diego replies bluntly. He does feel bad about hurting Klaus - even though he has a feeling the boy is exaggerating a little - but he can’t get upset about Diego disciplining him for misbehaving. He has been warned, after all.

 

“Just shut up and enjoy the film,” Diego relents, resting his palm warm and heavy over Klaus’ ankle again, massaging the spot his fingers had been digging into just moments ago apologetically. Then, “Sorry.”

 

Klaus grumbles something under his breath but he doesn’t try to pull away from Diego again, which, good. Instead he sits still throughout the mind-numbingly boring movie, and when Diego falls asleep his hand is still resting over the bone in Klaus’ ankle.

 

***

 

Diego wakes to an empty apartment. He blinks his eyes open slowly - he’s definitely going to have a bad back from falling asleep on the sofa tomorrow - and when he realises that Klaus is no longer with him he stands up so quickly he ends up with a head rush. The TV screen is black, the movie having ended; Klaus must have taken the disc out, and Diego wants to believe he waited until it was over but a quick look at the time on his phone tells him the kid must have just waited until he was asleep. His hands curl into fists automatically and he swallows down the urge to punch the wall— getting angry at Klaus wont do anything to help right now. He’ll punish the boy, definitely, but he can’t do that unless he thinks rationally about this.

 

He can’t call Klaus: he doesn’t have the kid’s number, and he has no idea where he is. As much as he’d like to storm out of here and tear the streets up looking for him, the best option right now is to sit back and wait for him to return. Just in case, he tries the door because he wouldn’t put it past Klaus to lock him in as petty revenge. Thankfully it opens easily and Diego sighs in relief.

 

To pass time and to ignore the uncomfortably fast rhythm of his heart, he packs the shopping away. He walks through the apartment idly, avoiding Ben’s door - because he respects Ben’s privacy, after all - and instead pushes the door to Klaus’ bedroom open. It isn’t much different to the last time Diego was in here, but this time the doors to the wardrobe are open and the flannel t-shirt Klaus had been wearing earlier on has been flung onto the bed. Diego exhales shakily; he needs something, right now, to make him feel in control.

 

With a steady hand he opens Klaus’ underwear drawer and chooses a random pair of panties from it, tucking them into his jacket pocket. Klaus can’t run away from him forever.

 

It’s just gone ten by the time he gets a phone call from an unknown number. He jumps, the vibrating from his pocket startling him; he knows who it’s going to be before he answers the phone, and a smile spreads over his face in spite of himself. In case of emergencies, he had told Klaus, and it would seem as though the boy really had paid attention.

 

“Hello?” He answers. There’s music in the background, loud with a thumping base that rattles around his skull even through the phone. Wherever Klaus is, it sounds busy.

 

“Diego?” Klaus’ voice is small, but somehow Diego hears it even over the music. He sounds almost embarrassed, almost ashamed, and Diego’s first thought is ‘good’. “Can— can you come pick me up?”

 

He’s clearly drunk; he’d probably never ask for help otherwise, but it’s more than that. He sounds shaky, unsure, scared. Diego’s heart starts to race and he forces himself to focus on Klaus’ breathing through the line, uneven as it may be.

 

“Where are you?” Diego demands, already grabbing his car keys and heading to the door. Klaus sniffles and god, Diego just wants to wrap the kid up in his arms, cradle his head, taste his tears on his tongue.

 

“A house. Somewhere. I don’t— I think someone put something in my drink?” He sounds so fucking young like this. Diego doesn’t even care that he’s on the phone whilst driving, because the thought of someone drugging Klaus’ drink, of putting their hands on him, is enough to spur him forwards despite the possible consequences.

 

“I need you to give me an address, okay? Klaus?” Diego asks firmly, but Klaus just whines and stays silent. When he next speaks he allows re insistence to bleed into his voice, more command. “Hey, listen to me. Tell me where you are, kid.”

 

Klaus finally spits out an address and Diego swings the car round to accommodate. He’s not that far away, and what would usually be a ten minute car journey he makes in five. He can already see Klaus before he’s even getting out of his car, sitting on the curb with his arms curled around his bare legs and his chin resting on his knees. He looks miserable and freezing cold, shivering in a button up white shirt and a plain black skirt that stops mid thigh. When he notices Diego he lets out a sob, and even though Klaus was the one to call him, Diego chooses to believe it’s because he’s relieved.

 

“Diego,” He starts. Diego curls a hand around his forearm, his fingers almost managing to encircle it completely, and pulls him upwards. “I’m sorry— please, don’t be mad. I didn’t know who else to call. All my friends are drunk, I didn’t know who else to call.”

 

“Jesus, you’re cold.” Diego ignores him, shucking off his jacket and draping it over Klaus’ shoulders. The boy burrows further into it and not so subtly buried his face into the collar. “Can you walk? I’m gonna get you to the car.”

 

Klaus, it turns out, can’t really walk properly. Diego has to guide him with an arm over his shoulders as he stumbles along beside him, head lolling around and eventually dropping onto Diego’s shoulder. Diego bundles him into the car and straps him in easily.

 

By the time they get back to the apartment Klaus has completely passed out, so Diego ends up carrying him to his bedroom bridal style. It’s already late and Diego had been planning on staying the night anyway but seeing Klaus like this, all sleep-soft and pliant, he’s determined to stay. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch, and it would be so easy as well: Klaus is so prickly when he’s awake, so evasive and touch shy, but like this he isn’t. He’s soft and warm and safe, and all Diego’s to do what he wants with.

 

So he reaches out and places a hand on Klaus’ knee, slides it up so that his fingertips are brushing just under the hem of his skirt. His legs are shaven and smooth, and when Diego crawls over him to kiss his forehead softly Klaus’ eyes flit back and forth under his eyelids. He lets out a soft, sleepy moan. Diego almost cries.

 

It’s late and Diego’s tired, so he lifts the corner of the duvet and drags it over both of their bodies. Klaus isn’t conscious to resist when Diego wraps an arm around his waist, spooning him from behind, and breathes in the smell of his hair, his shampoo, his baby soft skin. God, Diego wants him more than anything.

 

But that will have to wait. His punishment will have to wait as well— because he snuck out of the house and didn’t tell Diego where he was going, he’s absolutely getting punished. Right now though Klaus is safe in his arms, as he should be, and he’s just going to enjoy this moment while he can.

 

He doubts it’ll last forever.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags updated - reminder that this gets very dark so take care with reading onwards! <3

When Klaus wakes up he's tied to the bed. Diego had started working earlier on, being careful with the kid's wrists and ankles so as not to pinch the skin, and when he had finished he had sat back and watched. Klaus looks exceptionally pretty when he sleeps, even prettier all spread out like this, and it had been almost impossible for Diego to keep his hands off him.  He just looks so peaceful, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths. 

 

“Uh, fuck.” Klaus groans, turning his head against the pillow and scrunching his features up. He tries to bring his arm to his forehead and when he can't he frowns, curling his hand into a fist and then uncurling it. “What the fuck?”

 

“Morning,” Diego smiles, moving from the chair in front of the vanity mirror to the bottom of the bed. Klaus’ body jerks and he tugs at the ropes around his wrists, legs trying to kick but restrained by the bindings. His eyes widen in alarm when he sees Diego and he swallows, head falling back on the pillow.

 

“Diego, what the fuck are you doing?” He breathes, voice no more than a whisper. Diego's eyes flick down to the bare skin of Klaus’ thigh and his fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch.

 

“Are you still hungover?” Diego answers his question with another question, nodding to the glass of water and the two aspirin pills sitting on the bedside table. “I could help you with them if you want?”

 

Klaus’ eyes dart over to the drink but he looks back almost immediately, lips pressed tight together and eyes blazing. ”I'm not taking shit from you.” He declares, tugging helplessly on the rope again. ”Let me go.”

 

Diego sighs; he knows he can't put this conversation off forever as much as he wants to. He just hopes Klaus understands what he has to say.

 

“Klaus,” he starts, resting his palm over Klaus’ knee. The kid flinches and tries to pull away but the ropes keep in place. “You've gotta understand, I didn't want to do this, okay? I don't want to upset you.”

 

“Then let me go.” Klaus pleads. His bottom lip trembles and his eyes well up with tears; he looks so beautiful like this that it tugs on Diego’s heartstrings. He can't help but shift further up the bed and lean down, brush Klaus’ tears away with the pad of his thumb. The boy watches him with big, watery eyes.

 

“I can't, Klaus. This is for your own good.” Diego tells him softly. “Don't give me that look. You left last night without telling me. Anything could have happened. What am I supposed to do if you get hurt, huh?”

 

“So, what, is this a punishment?” Klaus spits. “Are you _punishing_ me? Fuck you!”

 

“Try not to think of it as a punishment,” Diego offers, thumbing over Klaus’ bottom lip and pulling his hand away quickly when Klaus tries to nip him with his teeth. “Think of it as… proof. Of how much I care about you. Of how much I’m willing to do to protect you.”

 

“You call this protection?” Klaus laughs incredulously, humourlessly, and spits in Diego’s face. “Go fuck yourself.”

 

Diego acts instinctively, hand flying out to slap Klaus. It’s not too hard - it probably wouldn’t even startle Diego - but Klaus is a lot smaller and a lot more delicate, a lot more frail. He lets out a small, wounded noise and stays frozen in place, arms slack and head flung to the side. Diego sighs.

 

“It’s okay.” Diego says, wiping his sleeve over the spit on his face and reaching out to stroke a hand over Klaus’ hair.“I get it. You’re scared. But Klaus, I promise, you don’t have to be scared of me. I would never hurt you. I’m doing this for your own good.”

 

Klaus looks at him, eyes damp and big and imploring. Diego leans over and kisses him chastely on the cheek, still red in the shape of Diego’s hand.

 

“You’ll see,” Diego says, voice full of intent. He gets up to leave. “I’ll make you see.”

 

“Wait!” Klaus cries out, verging on panic. “Where are you going? Diego, you can’t leave me here!”

 

“I’ll only be in the next room,” Diego smiles. Klaus swallows and squeezes his eyes shut for a second, prompting more tears to slip down his cheeks.

 

“Would you—” he bites his bottom lip. “If I let you… _touch_ me, would you let me go?”

 

As desperate as Diego is to get his hands all over Klaus - and what a picture he makes, spread out like a fucking feast, eyes wet, totally helpless and in Diego’s control - he also sounds terrified, and Diego doesn’t like that. He frowns, edging closer to sit on the bed and cup Klaus’ cheek. His skin is soft and delicate, so easily breakable, and Diego runs the backs of his fingers over it.

 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He says sweetly. “I promise you, when I touch you it’ll be because you’re begging for it.”

 

Klaus shakes and stares up at him with a petrified expression. “You’re crazy.” He whispers, breath ghosting over Diego’s face.

 

Diego ducks down and, slowly so he can savour every moment, he touches his lips to Klaus’. The kid’s mouth tastes of tears and something sweet that Diego can’t put his finger on; then he pulls away.

 

“Crazy for you.” He grins, and leaves the room.

 

***

 

Ben calls later that day. Diego has been checking up on Klaus at regular intervals, coaxing him into eating some breakfast with Diego holding the plate up to his mouth, but the boy had refused to take the painkillers. God knows Diego would never trick him like that but he’s still wary, so he’s been in a foul mood all morning.

 

Diego is flicking through channels when his phone starts to ring. Ben’s name flashes on his screen and he curses, muting the television immediately and hesitating for barely a second before he accepts the call.

 

“Ben, hey!” He says, trying his best to sound cheerful. “How’s your foster father?”

 

“He’s getting better!” Ben replies, sounding like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Diego grins; he knew Ben had done the right thing asking him for help. He only wishes Ben had come to him sooner— Diego would be happier, Ben would have had peace of mind much sooner and Klaus would most certainly be better off.

 

“I’m gonna have to stay here for a bit longer but there’s no panic anymore, so we’re just going to be helping him get around for a bit. Hey, how’s Klaus? I’ve called him a few times but he hasn’t picked up.”

 

Shit. As much as he wants to think Ben would appreciate his dedication to keeping Klaus safe, he’s aware that his methods are a little… extreme. He doesn’t have any readymade excuses for why Klaus is strapped to his bed with a sore looking cheek dressed in a slutty party outfit. At least, none that Ben would understand.

 

“Um, yeah! I’m actually at your place at the moment. Klaus is asleep I think, I’ll go and wake him up if you want?” Diego says, and inwardly chants a litany of _please_ _say_ _no_ _please_ _say_ _no_ _please_ _say_ —

 

“Yeah, thanks.” Ben smiles, totally unaware of Diego’s inner conflict. “I just wanted to say happy birthday to him for tomorrow. I probably won’t get a chance to call tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll just— I’ll go wake him up. Wait here!” Diego leaves his phone in the living room and races out of the room, pausing for a second outside the door to lean against the wall and take deep breaths. It’s Klaus’ birthday tomorrow? Why didn’t the kid tell him? He could have been planning something fun for his birthday - not a party, of course, but at least he could have baked a fucking cake - and instead he left the kid tied to his bed and hit him.

 

Diego starts to feel the first curl of guilt, pressing down on his chest. Not enough to make him actually let Klaus go - he’s teaching the kid a lesson - but enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

 

“Klaus,” Diego says as he steps into the room. Klaus inhales sharply and his head whips towards the door; his eyes are still rimmed red and it looks like he’s bitten his bottom lip red and raw, but the mark on his cheek has faded. He looks okay. “Ben’s on the phone.”

 

Klaus’ eyes widen and he struggles against the ropes again, opening and shutting his mouth a few times like he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t seem sure of why Diego is telling him, and it’s making him nervous.

 

“Can I—”

 

“He’s gonna wish you happy birthday.” Diego tells him strictly. Klaus blinks. “You’re gonna say thank you. You’re gonna tell him we’ve been getting on fine. Any deviation from this and you look to me for an answer, okay?”

 

Klaus nods eagerly, head thrashing against the pillow. “Okay, yes, I promise.”

 

Diego turns to leave the room but stops at the last second. “Klaus,” He says. “Don’t make me remind you of the situation you’re in. Copy what I say. I don’t want to have to punish you any more than I already have.”

 

Something changes in Klaus’ expression. His body untenses and he drops back to the bed, arms and legs going slack. His mouth turns down at the corners and he glances at Diego from the corner of his eye. “I thought you said it wasn’t a punishment.” He mutters.

 

Diego grins.

 

Klaus stays still when Diego brings the phone in, but even so he keeps his finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button just in case. Diego puts it on speaker and holds it in his hand, sitting on the bed beside Klaus and resting a hand absentmindedly on his thigh over the smooth fabric of his skirt.

 

“Klaus?” Ben’s voice comes through, tinny through the speaker. “You there, little bro?”

 

“Ben?” Klaus asks, voice small. He sounds adorable like this, but he doesn’t sound natural and that worries Diego. He frowns at Klaus, makes a ‘hurry up’ gesture with his other hand. “Yeah, I’m here. How’s Korea?”

 

“It’s great, Klaus.” Ben says, sounding more genuinely enthusiastic than Diego has ever heard him sound before. He does feel a little bad about lying to Ben and listening in on what should be a private conversation, but he can’t take any chances by leaving Klaus alone with the phone. “I’ve gotta bring you out here someday. You’d love it here, I can tell.”

 

“One day,” Klaus agrees, a smile playing at his lips. He locks eyes with Diego and clenches his jaw. “Definitely.”

 

“Hey, listen, I can’t stay long,” Ben says apologetically. “But I wanted to say happy birthday for tomorrow. I’m really sorry I won’t get to be there with you. We’ll save your party for when I get back, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Klaus bites his lip again and Diego reaches out on instinct, thumbing out from between his teeth. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to another one of your legendary parties.”

 

“Brat.” Ben laughs through the phone. “You’re okay though, right? Diego’s taking care of you?”

 

Klaus panics, swallowing; his eyes go wide and he looks to Diego questioningly. Diego smiles, pleased that the kid’s first reaction is to ask him for guidance. He nods slowly and rubs his thumb over the line where the hemline of his skirt meets his bare skin.

 

“Yeah,” Klaus repeats, and his voice only wobbles a little. “He’s been… great.”

 

Diego tunes the rest of the conversation out after that, and it’s only a few more minutes before he’s hanging up again. Klaus had been so good, so well behaved for him, that he almost wants to let the boy up as a reward. But he has to keep him here for a bit longer, if only to make an example of the occasion.

 

“Well done,” Diego beams, putting the phone aside and crawling up the bed. He kisses Klaus’ forehead and then, playfully, nips the kid’s earlobe. Klaus shudders in spite of himself and whines, though whether from unexpected arousal or discomfort Diego isn’t sure. “You did so well. Thank you, Klaus. Knew you could behave.”

 

Klaus watches him all the way out of the door. He’ll be back later on to get Klaus ready to go to bed and to curl up next to him— Diego is not sleeping on the couch ever again and it would feel like an invasion of privacy to sleep in Ben’s bed, so he’ll have to sleep next to Klaus however uncomfortable the ropes might be.

 

He doesn’t mind though. It just shows, he decides, the lengths he is willing to go.

 

Maybe Klaus will appreciate it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! <3


End file.
